cheryl
Administrator
Staff member
You Don’t Know Jack - Taste Cooking
Gather ’round, America’s melting cheese has a story to tell.
his is a tale about a great American cheese, a cheese so obscure almost nobody knows it. A hard-to-find, sometimes absurdly expensive cheese. A delicious and sweet buttery beauty of a cheese, made in two officially recognized styles, each with a California pedigree and die-hard fans whose praise always fails to break through to the mainstream.
It’s Monterey Jack. And if you think I am kidding, please come cut a chunk of the fruity, amber-hued, two-year-old wedge of Special Select Dry Jack from Vella Cheese now sitting on my kitchen counter, which cost me $35 plus shipping.
Most people who care about food recognize that there are higher levels of quality in other commodity cheeses—that you can buy Grafton Clothbound Cheddar or the real-deal Swiss, called Emmentaler. But Monterey Jack, born in California’s Monterey County but now made around the country, hasn’t yet been so lucky: Though you’ll find artisan versions made all over the country—mostly small-batch products sold at farmers markets or markets that buy locally—it’s still seen as a flabby rectangle good only for quesadillas.
Gather ’round, America’s melting cheese has a story to tell.
his is a tale about a great American cheese, a cheese so obscure almost nobody knows it. A hard-to-find, sometimes absurdly expensive cheese. A delicious and sweet buttery beauty of a cheese, made in two officially recognized styles, each with a California pedigree and die-hard fans whose praise always fails to break through to the mainstream.
It’s Monterey Jack. And if you think I am kidding, please come cut a chunk of the fruity, amber-hued, two-year-old wedge of Special Select Dry Jack from Vella Cheese now sitting on my kitchen counter, which cost me $35 plus shipping.
Most people who care about food recognize that there are higher levels of quality in other commodity cheeses—that you can buy Grafton Clothbound Cheddar or the real-deal Swiss, called Emmentaler. But Monterey Jack, born in California’s Monterey County but now made around the country, hasn’t yet been so lucky: Though you’ll find artisan versions made all over the country—mostly small-batch products sold at farmers markets or markets that buy locally—it’s still seen as a flabby rectangle good only for quesadillas.